


After a Long Talk

by TheCobraOfHell



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Healthy Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 23:45:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11588640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCobraOfHell/pseuds/TheCobraOfHell
Summary: After a long talk, Zen and Saeran set up boundaries for what each other wants. They experiment a little with these new rules. (This is a oneshot from my other piece A Little Mix Up! Read that piece to see how Zen and Saeran got together!)





	After a Long Talk

After a Long Talk  
(A Little Mix Up Oneshot)

I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if I’ll like it. I don’t know if I’ll freak out or get scared or start crying. I don’t know if I’ll be okay. 

Zen listened to Saeran’s worries, letting Saeran vent for a long while. He held his hand and tried to understand what he had said- and although he didn’t completely get it, he was willing to work on it. If he’s not ready to go further than kissing, that’s okay. If he doesn’t want to be touched anywhere below the belt, that’s okay. Hell- if he doesn’t want to be touched at all- that. Is. Okay. 

After a long talk, they make an agreement and found themselves later that night huddled on the bed.

Saeran gave a few deep breaths, steadying his rampant heart and calming himself down. This was okay, they were okay, Zen was okay, he was okay. Everything is okay. 

“Hey,” Saeran looks back up at Zen, meeting his softened gaze. “It’s okay, Saeran. Take your time, alright?”

In just that sentence, and just that look, he can already feel his nerves melting away. He wasn’t sure how Zen did it; he just had the tendency to tame his anxiety like a circus animal. It’s like he waved a wand, the magic he had transforming Saeran into… something better than himself. 

No- he was still himself- just a better version of himself. 

With another pause to gather his nerves, Saeran had climbed onto the bed, crawling up to see Zen face to face. Zen watches, only tilting his head up to follow Saeran’s movements. Saeran gives a little giggle at the other’s curiosity, taking that next moment to dip down and kiss the actor’s lips gently. 

His hands are on the move from there, hooking onto the hem of Zen’s tank top and pulling it up. Zen lifts his arms, letting the shirt be removed and very quickly thrown across the room. This was the easiest part, just taking off the shirt and looking, marveling at the way Zen looks. Saeran sucks in a breath, his eyes trained on the way Zen’s chest rises and falls as his hands land on the other’s shoulders. 

The journey from then on was slow and a little tedious- but Zen and Saeran both seem to have fun with it. Lithe fingers trail down, pressing into the curves of collarbone and throat before lingering at pectorals. Zen seems to just about purr, his body curving up into the trails the fingers made across him. They dip lower, tracing the dips of the man’s abs, and the owner of said fingers seemed almost taken aback by how toned the muscles are there. Saeran sucks in another shaky breath, letting it out in a hushed moan. 

Zen is flabbergasted. Despite self-control, his hips rolled up, and his pants were already beginning to strain. 

This wasn’t a part of the deal, but Saeran doesn’t notice right away. His hand motions linger there for a while, just feeling up the toned muscles of Zen’s stomach and chest. Saeran thought- at this point- that the nerves would be biting him again, but they seem at bay for now. In fact, it brings him confidence instead, and he lowers a bit to give gentle pecks on Zen’s throat and trailing downward. 

Honestly- Zen can’t help it. It was easy at first, just having Saeran marvel over him, at least he was used to that. But then there was the touching, and the kisses, and Saeran was just going lower and lower and lower....

The actor gasps, hips twitching up again as Saeran’s lips met the edge of his pants. He regrets the motion immediately when Saeran pulls away, eyes widened and breathing hard in shock. “S-sorry, Saeran. I just- you’re makin me feel so good…”

Saeran blushes, nervously looking away. “I- I haven’t even done anything…”

“I know,” Zen murmurs back. “You’re just talented, babe.”

Saeran gulps, still blushing furiously, but the compliment helps him for some reason. He plays with the fabric of the other’s pants, fingers tugging on the belt loops just the slightest bit as though he were stalling slightly. It takes him just about a full minute in order to continue in his journey. 

He takes a deep breath and looks at the tent in Zen’s pants, a little bit taken aback by how… huge he looks. It’s a bit intimidating, but the tingles in his spine aren’t quite nervousness. Saeran presses his palm against it experimentally, wondering what Zen might do. 

It’s clear that he’s restraining himself. Zen’s hands turn white with the death grip he has on the sheets, and has his eyes already snapped shut and mouth dropped. With his restraint, he only gasped and nudged up, pressing against the palm holding him. Yes, he was restraining himself, but he was certainly appreciating it. 

Saeran continues, rubbing the bulge and giving gentle squeezes, trying to get used to the feeling of touching the other. Every rub and squeeze seems to drive Zen up the wall, pulling out gasps and sighs with every move. Between the touches, he undoes the button and zipper and starts wiggling the pants down. With only a pair of boxers left to him, it doesn’t really do much to hide him. His cock is pressed hard against the fabric, a spot of wetness where precum was already seeping through. 

At that point, Saeran starts becoming bashful, nibbling on his bottom lip and looking away, feeling his nerves beginning to build up. His skin was starting to crawl, the air was thinning, his chest was tight…

It’s okay. We’re okay. I can stop when I want. Zen doesn’t care either way. Zen won’t be upset with him. 

Just thinking about Zen’s words, and knowing how he felt, it helped ease the anxiety that was brewing. Once those nerves had sunk again, he tugged down the boxers in a swift movement, letting Zen’s cock spring back against his stomach. Zen audibly whimpers, biting down on his lip and grip trembling in the covers, refraining from grabbing Saeran. 

Saeran gasps, now overcome with intrigue as he reaches out again and wraps a hand around the engorged flesh and pumping the shaft slowly. Zen instantly whimpers, his stomach tensing as he fought the urge to thrust upward as to avoid frightening Saeran. For the longest moment, Saeran just watches the way Zen’s cock twitches and aches in his palm, intrigued at how much precum was dripping from the head. 

He glances back up, cheeks burning and chest swelling in confidence at how wrecked Zen already looks. The poor guy is so focused yet lost in himself, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each labored breath and sweat prickling along his hairline. If Saeran focused enough, he’d notice the small thrusts that Zen produced, but he knew that the actor was still very much holding himself back. The idea was… kind of sexy.

“Do you like this, Zen?” Saeran whispers softly, stroking the cock in his hand just a smidge faster. Zen reacts immediately, his head tilting back and throat bared as he groans loudly. “Do- you like the way I’m touching you?”

Zen nods harshly, finally opening his eyes and staring down at Saeran with a hooded, heated gaze. “Y-Yes. I… I love being at your mercy, babe. Letting you do what you’d like with me- fuck- it’s so hot…”

Saeran squeaks, his stomach stirring with heat and hand pausing in its ministrations. Zen really liked it; he knew the other was honest. 

After that pause, he knew he had to blow Zen away. He picks back up with his pace, thumbing at the slit as his other hand swoops down and squeezes his balls gently. Zen responds with fervor, finally giving in to himself- if only the slightest bit- and freely rolling his hips to meet every calculated stroke, and he moans out his partner’s name, catching the poor guy off-guard. 

“Saeran- Saeran- that’s so good oh god…” Every gasp of his name made Saeran’s stomach clench tighter and tighter, and he swore he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. He licks his lips, focusing more, squeezing methodically with each pump and stroking even faster. 

Zen’s moans grew louder, filling the room with the sounds of his pleas and slick skin. “Can’t- guh- Saeran please. Oh Saeran, Saeran please! Fuck- fuck- Saeran.”

Saeran jumped, actually quite shocked when Zen climaxed, his cum shooting into the red-head’s palm and his own stomach. Zen continued to whimper afterward. His body was quaking, and he gave shaky whimpers of his partner’s name over and over again. 

Zen grew calm after several seconds, and even then he was just giving a lazy grin and staring at Saeran curiously. He sits up a bit, looking over Saeran until he looked down at the other’s pants. “Ohh- someone looks very… interested…”

He looks down and notices that- yes- he was very hard, and even his pants didn’t help to hide it. Saeran nibbles on one of his fingers, a little uncomfortable with the gaze that Zen gives him. He knows what Zen is insinuating, but he has to think about it for a moment. “I- I don’t know. I don’t think I’m ready for that…” 

Instead of smirking or even frowning, Zen produces a soft smile and sits up fully. “Alright. We can do that whenever you’re ready- or not if you’re never ready. It’s okay either way. I’m glad you’re open enough to tell me though. Thank you.”

Saeran shifts around, a little embarrassed from the positive attention he’s being given. “It feels weird to say you’re welcome but- you’re welcome.”

Zen gives a laugh, and Saeran joins him. “Mmm, I love you, Saeran.”

“I love you too, Zen.”

**Author's Note:**

> Have a suggestion or prompt? Consider commenting on this piece or sending a message to my tumblr at tcohs-messenger!


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